


As Long As You Want Me Too, And Longer By Far

by lindsey_grissom



Series: Lizzie ‘Verse [2]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, canon AU, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: The return of Lizzie, Aunt Elsie and Uncle-Mr Carson. And introducing Mrs Patmore’s Matchmaking Service (now recruiting).





	As Long As You Want Me Too, And Longer By Far

**i.**

“You realise whose fault this is, of course?” She asks him, wriggles the door handle again even though she knows it won’t move far. 

“Yes. Mrs Patmore’s.”

She looks at him in surprise, her hand falling away from the door. He has been frowning for a while, as long as they’ve been locked in here, but as she watches him, his lip quirks ever so slightly.

“I was thinking Lizzie actually.” She takes a seat beside him on the little crate he set up for her, tries not to crease his jacket, laid out over it. 

”And where do you think she got the idea? She certainly didn’t think it up on her own.” She knows he honestly believes that her niece is not this devious. But the girl is half Hughes, and Elsie remembers what she and May were like, even as young as Lizzie is.

“No of course, I’m sure Mrs Patmore had a hand in it. Especially with—”

“The cakes?” She meets his eyes, grimaces with him.

“The cakes.” She agrees with a nod. “Do you think Mrs Patmore is still angry about the store cupboard key?” She asks after a moment, breaking the silence.

He hums, low and grumbly, a surprisingly pleasant sound. “Because of the salt. I suppose she might, I certainly don’t think it would have hurt Elizabeth’s feelings too much if Mrs Patmore had told her she had the wrong pot.”

She stares at him, far more amused than he would probably like. “Well yes, _that_.” She says, because yes, Mrs Patmore had seemed to rather enjoy their misery as they forced down the little cakes Lizzie had made them. “But I rather meant choosing the store cupboard to lock us into.”

“Oh, I suppose it does emphasise how helpful it would be if she had her own key.”

“Mr Carson—”

“But of course it’s quite right that she not have one.”

**ii.**

“Mr Carson.”

Elsie looks up, expecting to see the Butler in her doorway, but finds it empty. She glances down at the girl playing with dolls at her feet, meets her eyes. 

“Mr Carson.” Lizzie says again.

“What about him, love?”

The girl bites her lip — Elsie sees her sister in the gesture, her Ma and it makes her ache.

“Is he my uncle?”

The pin in her hand, meant for the ripped seam of Mr Carson’s jacket, catches her finger instead. She lays her sewing down, sucks on her finger. “Why?”

“I don’t have an uncle.”

“You have—”

“He scares the monsters and lets me help with the accounts.” Which she pronounces as _‘ah-cow-ants’_ to Elsie’s delight and Mr Carson’s endless frustration, although she notices he _has_ stopped correcting her on it.

“Do you want him to be your uncle?”

The girl thinks, her eyes moving about the room, her lip getting horribly chewed between her teeth.  “Yes.”  She says eventually, turning back to her dolls.

“You’ll have to tell him.” Elsie says, picking up the jacket and pins, because that is not a conversation she wants to have with Mr Carson.  It would likely be better coming from her niece anyway; he’s less likely to decline the obvious honour this way.

“Okay.” The girl jumps up, heads for the door.  “You can get married now."  She adds, stepping out and disappearing along the corridor.  The pin goes straight through Elsie’s skin again.

**iii.**

"Uncle Mr Carson." 

He ignores the looks from the man beside him, looks down at the sweet face looking up at him.  “Yes, Elizabeth?”

"That one.” She points at the light blue scarf, delicately embroidered with white lilies. 

“Are you sure?"  He thought perhaps the green one to match her coat, or the red one, which he thinks might show up the hues in her hair. 

"Yes.  S’pretty.”

“It is.” He agrees, and he supposes it will match Mrs Hughes’ eyes.  “Okay, we’ll take that one."  He hands it to the woman behind the counter, helps Elizabeth pick out the correct change and picks her up so she can hand it over.

"Now that we have your Aunt’s birthday present, how about some ice cream?"  Elizabeth eyes him, her gloved hand tucked into his own as they step out of the shop.

"What’s your presen _t_?” She says, emphasising the ‘t’ the way her aunt does, the way her mother must have.

"The scarf—”

“No.” She cuts him off, the way her aunt has taken to these days. “That’s mine."  She pulls on his arm, leads him to the little jewellers on the corner, by the bus stop.  "There."  She points at a ring, sapphires and diamonds in a gold band.

"That’s an engagement ring."  She stares at him, blue eyes wide and pleading. 

"Ice cream."  He says decisively and tugs her carefully away from the window. 

**iv.**

"Are they getting married now, Mrs Patmore?”

“Not yet, dearie.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re stubborn, Lizzie.  Don’t know what’s good for them, the both of them as bad as each other.”

“More cakes?”

“No, I think this will take something more than cakes this time.”

“Treats?”

“No, but perhaps a trick will do it.  Come along, this is what you need to do.”

**v.**

“But I want Uncle Mr Carson!"  Elsie takes a deep breath, holds the girl closer to her chest, cups the back of her head. 

"He’s asleep, Lizzie.  You don’t want to wake him up do you?”

“But I _want_ him.”

She has been upset since she woke up from the nightmare, calling for Mr Carson and no matter what Elsie tries she cannot calm her.

"Please Lizzie, just try to sleep and we’ll see Mr Carson in the morning.”

“But the monsters will come.  I want Uncle Mr Carson!”

With a sigh she gives in.  It’s likely Mr Carson has heard the girl already, the walls are not particularly thick in the attics and his room is right beside hers.  If she’s lucky, he’s the only one Lizzie has woken.

“Okay, Lizzie, we’ll go and see him.”

She bundles them both up in robes and slippers, lifts the child into her arms and carries her to the door that separates the two halves of the attic rooms.  Mr Carson stands on the other side of the door, his robe wrapped around him, worry on his face.

Lizzie leans out of her arms the moment the door opens and Mr Carson catches her, scoops her up and ushers them both into his room.

She shuts the door carefully, too tired to worry what this will look like.  Surely no one could suspect anything improper with Lizzie in the room with them.

“Here now, what’s all this noise?"  The girl sniffles, hides her face in Mr Carson’s neck.  "Have you been giving your aunt trouble?”

“Monsters." 

Mr Carson looks to her and she covers her mouth to hide a yawn before answering.  “She had a nightmare, Mr Carson.  I’m sorry to disturb you.”

He shakes his head, one of his hands running up and down Lizzie’s back, the girl already calming now that she has her Uncle Mr Carson. “It’s okay, Mrs Hughes.  I could hear her.  I might have come to you if I could.” He adds sheepishly.

She smiles at him, not able to hide how his kindness affects her in moments like this.  He has been so patient with the changes they have wrought on the life at Downton, and his life especially.  She thinks that if she didn’t already love him, she would have fallen these last few months.

"Thank you, Mr Carson."  She says, leans in and kisses his cheek.  She’ll blame it on tiredness tomorrow, if he mentions it.

"Not at all, Mrs Hughes."  He takes his hand from Lizzie’s back, wraps his arm around Elsie’s waist.  "Not at all."  He says again, pulls her closer.  Lizzie has fallen asleep in his arms, a small smile on her face.

"She’s so darling, like this."  She says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind the girl’s ear.  "Like an angel.”

“Like her aunt."  Mr Carson says and when she looks up at him, he leans in and kisses her. 

They both pretend not to hear the happy little giggle that comes from the girl resting between them.


End file.
